


How Many Gay Kids Go To This Church?

by Literally_No_One_Cares



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, M/M, Multi, Youth group AU, this might take a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5953675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literally_No_One_Cares/pseuds/Literally_No_One_Cares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey likes Pete, Pete likes Patrick. Patrick likes Joe, but Joe thinks he likes Pete. Gabe likes Bill, but Bill thinks he likes Vicky T. Josh just wants to be friends with everyone. Tyler wants Ryan to Get His Own Friend(TM). Spencer likes Brendon but Brendon likes Ryan, and Jon likes Ryan but Ryan likes Brendon. Andy likes crossfit.</p><p>(And Ashley wants the Ryden Truth)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick invited Joe to church, and Frank's mom invited Gerard. And since when does Pete like Patrick?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to finish this but I'm not making any promises.

Patrick’s palms were sweating. Tonight (a Wednesday night) he was a leading a song during worship at youth. He was leading a whole song, the first song, all by himself. He'd led songs before, but tonight was different because he had invited his new friend Joe Trohman. They had met in the library at school because Patrick was super pretentious and just _had_ to correct Joe over something really dumb, and when Patrick asked him to come to youth group he said he didn't have anything better to do, so why not.

His friend Pete Wentz was super pumped; he thought Joe was cool from the minute he saw him, and he was always up for more people to sit with. Patrick and Pete were a mismatched pair, as Pete was a loud, amiable soccer player and a junior, while Patrick was a quiet, music nerd sophomore. The older teen had a lot more friends than Patrick, who tended to just tag along with Pete.

It wasn't always like that, no, back in middle school it was Pete who followed Patrick. He thought Patrick had to be ‘the smallest cutest human being he'd ever seen’ and he was desperate to be his best friend. Patrick thought Pete was annoying, this tiny bundle of too much energy and sadness that wouldn't leave him alone. Somehow, Pete weaseled his way into Patrick’s life, and hadn't left since.

So, when high school happened and Patrick became a giant ball of anxiety, Pete was pretty good to have around, since he understood how that felt. He'd spent a year of middle school without Pete, only seeing him on weekends and Wednesday nights, and that was probably the worst school year of his life.

But now, as a sophomore, Pete and Patrick were inseparable again. Even with all of Pete’s other friends, Patrick was his favorite. And while Patrick had other friends too, the only one he was really close to was Pete.

Patrick calmed himself down a bit during the prayer right before they went on stage. Then he and the rest of the band walked out, and the singers all grabbed their mics. There was Patrick, front and center with a guitar strapped on, a girl named Carolyn to his right, and another girl called Clarissa on his left. The kids started filing into the auditorium, Patrick cleared his throat and spoke.

“What’s up, GL Students? I know you're tired from school but I bet you guys are still super pumped to be here,” the small teen greeted the mass of high school and middle school kids. They all crowded around the edge of the stage after marking their seats; Pete and Joe, along with Patrick's other friends Josh Dun, Tyler Joseph, and Brendon Urie, were on the front as close to him as they could get. “Alright, are you guys ready to worship?”

This got him a pretty decent response in a mix of clapping, yelling, and Pete’s screamed ‘you go Pattycakes!’ Patrick noticed there were two more new kids there, staying towards the back. They looked to be about his age, so they'd be in his group later.

However, now wasn't the time to be thinking about that. He was supposed to start playing. He may have messed up the first few notes, but none of the other kids could tell a difference. Soon, he was well into the first verse of Wake, one of his favorite songs. He watched the crowd, gaging their reactions. Pete was jumping along with the music, Josh, Tyler, and Brendon had their hands up and their eyes closed as they sang along, and Joe was watching him with a huge grin overtaking his face. In the middle of the crowd, The middle school girls were bouncing around as much as Pete was, while the quieter kids sort of swayed. In the back, Gabe Saporta and his friends, the popular kids, stood stock still with their hands in their pockets, and the two new boys tapped their feet and bobbed their heads. One of them, taller than the other and like ninety percent glasses and hat and ten percent face, looked a bit more indifferent than the other, who was smiling slightly.

They wrapped up Wake and the kids all cheered, even the stoic new kid with the glasses (although it was more of a sarcastic slow clap than anything else). They played How He Loves next, a slower song, and Carolyn led it. She wasn't the best, but she did a good job and had practiced a lot. The third song, Touch The Sky, was sung by Clarissa, who was, in Patrick's opinion, the best singer on the whole worship team.

Once worship was over, the kids all sat down and Patrick retreated backstage. He pulled his guitar off and at it in its stand, took his ears out and tied the cord in a knot, and turned off his mic pack and his guitar pack. The girls smiled at him, telling him he did a good job tonight, just like any other week they sang together. Patrick nodded and smiled in return but silently made his way out the door to the auditorium to go find Pete and Joe.

They were sitting on the second row, right behind Tyler, Josh, and Brendon, and just in front of Ray Toro, Frank Iero, and Spencer Smith. They’d saved him a seat between them (Patrick could just picture Pete one sidedly arguing with Joe over who got to sit next to Patrick) which he took as quietly and quickly as he could. He didn't want to distract the other kids.

The moment his butt hit the chair, Pete slung an arm around his shoulders and gave a tight squeeze. Joe’s face became a bit questioning, but he smiled anyway. Patrick struggled to get his phone out of his pocket and open the notes app, because he was a little goody two shoes and needed to take notes. Pete had a notebook but he mostly just doodled in it, and Joe pulled out his phone too but he chose to text Patrick instead of paying attention.

Joe <( _I didn't know you were that good, dude._

Patrick smiled down at his phone but didn't reply. Pete had tried texting him during the message before and he never answered, so he wasn't answering Joe either.

J <( _Seriously you're really awesome. How do you hide all that awesome?_

Patrick rolled his eyes. Yeah, he could sing. But it wasn't like he was actually that good. He was just one of the only guys that wanted to sing. The rest of them thought it was ‘girly’ or something.

Pete <( _joe thnks ur rlly cool_  
P  <( _i have no clue why tho :P_

If looks could kill, Pete Wentz would have died about five hundred times just this week. Patrick reached over and took his pen, preventing him from drawing and eliciting an annoyed whine. Joe chuckled on the other side of Patrick, but he tired to stay quiet so it was more of a snort.

Eventually, the youth pastor dismissed them for groups. The middle school kids gathered in the front of the room, girls on one side and boys on the other, and the high school kids flocked to the back. They took chairs off the back rows and arranged them in a circle, and once again, Patrick was placed between Joe and Pete without much choice. The two new kids, glasses and who Patrick thought might be his brother, sat on the other side of Pete.

The leaders, two twenty-somethings named Christian (ha) and Adam, got the boys calmed down enough to talk. “I see we’ve got some new faces here, so why don't we go around the circle and tell each other your names and grades,” Adam suggested. “Uh, we’ll start with Tyler.”

“I'm Tyler, which he literally just said, and I'm a freshman,” he introduced himself. Next was Josh, then Brendon, then Spencer, then Ray, then Frank, and then the new kids.

“I'm Gerard, and I'm a senior,” the older one said softly, speaking out of one side of his mouth. “This is my brother Mikey, he’s a sophomore,” he added.

“I'm Pete, I'm a junior,” Pete said far too loudly. Patrick groaned.

“My name’s Patrick, please don't call me Pat, I'm in tenth grade,” he mumbled awkwardly.

“I'm Joe, I'm a sophomore too, and I think I have a couple classes with Mikey,” Joe said when it was his turn. After him was Ryan Ross (to be quite honest, when Patrick met Ryan he thought he was a girl), Jon Walker, who was Ryan’s best friend, then Bill Beckett, Gabe Saporta, and Andy Hurley, the drummer for the band.

They talked a little bit about the message--Tyler had _plenty_ to say, as always--then Christian asked if anyone had prayer requests, and they prayed. After that, they were free to go. Pete got drawn into some strange conversation with Gabe, and Joe went over to Andy to talk, so Patrick found himself walking over to Frank Iero and the two new kids.

“Oh, hey Patrick,” Frank acknowledged. “These are my neighbors, the Way brothers,” he gestured to Gerard and Mikey, “My mom invited their mom to bible study, and they came for youth.”

“You’re a really great singer,” Gerard told him, smiling. “And you make it look like so much fun.”

Up close, Patrick recognized the brothers from school. Gerard was known mostly as ‘that weird goth artist kid’ who drew vampires all the time and came off as kind of terrifying. He had black hair just above his shoulders that desperately needed washed, but other than that, Patrick couldn't see why people were so intimidated by him.

He knew Mikey from his math class, but that was the first time he'd heard his name. He was quiet, and stayed away from most people. He’d seen him at Frank’s usual lunch table before, as well, with Ray and Gerard.

“Patrick’s the best,” Frank stage whispered to Gerard. “He's the only guy who sings on Wednesday nights. The adult worship leaders are all too busy during the week, and none of the other guys wanted to do it.”

“I just wanted to play drums,” Patrick murmured. A hand landed on the middle of his back with a decent amount of force, but it was meant to be friendly.

“But Trick is the best singer ever, so they couldn't let that happen,” Pete declared. “Gabe forgot I was talking to him so he went off after Bill--Mikey, right? You’re like, so small? And tall? At the same time. How is that even a thing?”

The part of Mikey’s face that wasn't covered by hair flushed slightly. “Dunno,” he mumbled.

“Not that it's a bad thing, because it totally works on you. Also, your hair is really pretty. I bet you're really good with a flat iron,” Pete continued. “Also also, have you actually seen your hands? Do you play any instruments? You should, with hands like that. I bet they're good at other stuff too--”

“Ignore Pete,” Patrick huffed, covering Pete’s big mouth with his hand. “He's always like this, but it gets more tolerable after a while.” Pete licked Patrick’s hand, but gained no reaction. When that didn't work, Pete bit him. “Hey!”

“I play bass, actually,” Mikey stated, eyes fixed on the ground. Pete’s grin was getting big enough to break his face in half. Patrick’s eyes closed and his brows furrowed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Mikey Way didn't know what he was getting himself into.

Patrick wasn't sure how it happened, but somehow Pete bounded off with Mikey in tow, leaving him with Gerard and Frank. “I'm really sorry about him,” the singer apologized to the older Way sibling.

“Nah, I think Mikey actually likes him,” Gerard laughed. “Right, Frankie?”

“Mikey doesn't usually like talking to knew people. He just puts his earbuds in and ignores everything,” Frank explained. “And at school, since people know to avoid Gerard, they assume they should stay away from his brother too.”

“Avoid me? You make me sound violent,” Gerard scoffed. “I'm not even that scary. I don't really get it, but if people stay away from me, I'll keep doing whatever it is that freaks them out.”

Patrick frowned. “Doesn't that bother you, being ignored? I’d be lonely,” he asked. “If it weren't for Pete, people at school would probably ignore me too.”

“It's better than the alternative,” Frank sighed. “Would you rather be feared by all or beat up for wearing eyeliner? Yeah, didn't think so.”

Frank made a good point. Gerard was very, very effeminate, almost more than Ryan, with his long hair and his eye makeup. Patrick thought he was probably wearing foundation, too. He was also very _pretty_. If he hadn't sat with the boys' group, Patrick could have easily mistaken him for a girl. So, it stood to reason that jocks at school had, at some point, laughed at it. They probably called him a girl, or gay or something. If everyone was scared of him, they wouldn't mess with him.

“The thing that really scares people is the face,” Frank told Patrick. “I bet he practices it in the mirror. That’d be funny to watch. But yeah, he's got this glare that he gives anyone that makes eye contact with him at school. Gee, come on, show him the face.”

Gerard groaned, but looked away for a moment before looking back. When Patrick's eyes met his, they darkened, and it made Patrick squirm. Ok, now he could see how people could find Gerard intimidating. “Ha, um, sorry,” the older boy murmured. How could someone so pretty be so scary?

“Holy smokes,” Patrick said, “Maybe if I had a face like that I could teach Pete about personal space.”

“It doesn't help that he’s got a huge crush on you,” Frank quipped. Patrick looked astonished. “Oh come on man, don't act like you didn't know. He's like in love with you or something. Everybody knows that.”

“I didn't,” Gerard interjected.

“Yeah, but you didn't know Pete until today. Hurley, Trohman,” Frank called out to the other teens near by, “Isn't Pete in love with Patrick?”

“Is the sky blue?” Andy asked, deadpan, as he and Joe walked over to Patrick. “How did you not know?”

“Because Pete’s not gay?” Patrick said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Pete had dated tons of girls all throughout high school and middle school; just because Pete liked to hang all over him didn't mean he was suddenly gay.

“Uh, bisexuality is a thing,” Joe chimed in. “I've known you for a few days now and I know that he liked you. You're really oblivious, aren't you.” He whispered something else that sounded sort of like ‘you're lucky you're cute,’ but Patrick wasn't sure he heard it right.

“Why didn't any of you tell me?” Patrick asked indignantly.

“We thought you knew,” Frank insisted. “I just thought it didn't bother you. It doesn't, right?”

“No? I don't think so,” Patrick replied unsurely. He thought back over the years that he and Pete had been friends. They slept at each other’s houses (in the same bed, too), but Patrick couldn't think of a time that Pete had made him uncomfortable. Annoyed, yes, but not uncomfortable. Pete was a cuddler, everyone knew that, but he never tried to do anything that Patrick wasn't cool with. Despite his constant need to be in Patrick’s bubble, he didn't cross any lines. “I guess it's not a big deal. It doesn't change anything.”

“My mom’s probably waiting, I need to go find Mikey,” Gerard said, looking at the time on his phone.

“I'll come with you,” Frank said to him. Gerard laughed out a ‘that's what she said,’ as they walked away. “Bye guys,” they called back to Patrick, Joe, and Andy.

“I’ve got to get going too, I have a test tomorrow and I haven't studied,” Andy excused himself. Joe turned to Patrick.

“Patrick, are you doing anything Friday?” he asked once they were alone.

“Normally I'd be staying at Pete’s house, why?” Patrick replied. If Joe wanted to do something, he wouldn't mind canceling on Pete for the first time in four years.

Joe’s expression changed from hopeful to shot down. “Oh, if you had plans--”

“No, no, it's no big deal, I can go to his house Saturday,” he cut off, maybe a little too quickly.

“Ok, so would you want to come to my house that night? You don't have to, but it'd be cool if you did,” Joe asked. Was he nervous? He seemed nervous to Patrick.

“Cool man, I'd love to,” Patrick said, smiling. That helped relieve Joe’s apparent nervousness. Just then, Pete bounded up, lacking a younger Way brother who had probably gone home.

“Patrick, your mom’s looking for you, you should probably go soon,” Pete announced. “She wants to go home and go to bed, or something.”

“I'll see you guys at school tomorrow, I guess,” Joe said, moving towards the auditorium door. “Bye Patrick, bye Pete.”

Patrick went to go get his guitar and Pete followed. Once he had it, they went out to the front room where Patrick’s mom was waiting. As they walked, Pete babbled about his new friend.

“Man, Mikey Way is so cool,” Pete gushed. “How have I not talked to him before? Do you think I could steal him from Frank and Gerard for lunch tomorrow? I want to talk to him, like, forever.”

“I don't know,” Patrick said. “By the way, can I come over Saturday instead of Friday? Joe wants me to come to his house.”

Pete stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow. “You've never skipped a Friday before. You must really like Joe. Not that that bothers me or anything. Because there's no reason for it to. It's not a big deal.”

“I'm sorry, Pete, if you want I can tell Joe I'll come to his house Saturday instead,” Patrick back tracked.

“No, no. It's ok. If you want to hang out with Joe that's cool. Your mom’s over there, so, I'll see you tomorrow,” Pete rushed out, pushing Patrick towards his mom and then running the other way. “Bye Pattycakes!”

Well, that was a weird night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	2. One Friend, A Brother, And A Big Gay Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard's a little concerned about his brother hanging around Pete Wentz, and Frank and Ray only make him feel worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to make Gee so moody it just happened

Gerard rested his head on the window in the back seat of his mom’s car. He hated that he didn't have his license, but he also hated driving so he had no choice but to have his mom drive him to school. It was either that or get up early enough to walk, which was not an option. Mikey, the little shit, had taken the front seat, leaving Gerard to sit in the back.

“So, did you have fun at church last night Gerard?” Donna asked. He assumed Mikey had earbuds in so she didn't even bother asking him. “It's a lot different from the old church.”

They had gone to a Catholic Church when the boys were younger. Gerard hated it; they were super strict, and the nuns freaked him out. “I guess it was cool. I think I actually made a friend,” he replied.

The car skidded to a halt, throwing Gerard forward enough to lock his seat belt. Ouch. They had almost run a red light. “Holy shit. _My_ son made a friend? Am I going to find a pod somewhere? When’s the mother ship coming back for you?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Gerard groaned. “I have friends, Mom.” He sat back against the seat and rubbed at his neck, as it was stinging from the seat belt cutting into it.

“What the fuck?” Mikey exclaimed, yanking out an earbud and turning around to look at his brother. He couldn't tell if Mikey had heard the conversation or not.

“Don't blame me, Mom’s the one who almost ran the light,” the older Way sibling snipped.

Mikey laughed. “You don't have friends, Gee. You have me, a friend, and a big gay crush on Frank,” he teased. Ok, so he had heard them talking, then. “That's not friends, that's one friend and a brother.”

“I can have a ‘big gay crush’ on Frank and still be his friend,” Gerard protested. “And after talking to that Patrick guy last night, I'd have two friends without counting Frank.”

“Oh, Pete’s friend,” Mikey said. “I guess that's two friends. And one big gay crush.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves, because we're going on Sunday, too,” Donna butted in. Her sons both cringed at the thought of getting up before noon on the weekend.

“But I like sleeping on the weekends,” Gerard whined. _I need to sleep off my hangover from Saturday night_ , he added silently.

“Well too bad,” she told him. They pulled to a much gentler stop at the entrance to the school. “You're going or I’m going to kill the both of you. Lazy fucks. Have a nice day at school, boys. Now get out of my car.”

* * *

 

Gerard was miserable for most of the day. At least no one bothered him. Being the weird goth artist kid had its perks, like no one stuffing him in a locker because they were scared he'd be the next school shooter on the news, or people avoiding eye contact with him because they pissed themselves when someone scary looked at them. The biggest benefit was the way it protected Mikey, in Gerard’s opinion. They all better stay the fuck away from his brother.

When lunch came, however, he sat down and there was no Mikey. It was just Frank and Ray at their table. He scanned the lunchroom for his quiet brother; he finally spotted Mikey sitting with Pete Wentz. Gerard didn't get why he wanted to be anywhere near Pete, since they were complete opposites. They may have common interests, but their personalities didn't seem like a good fit. Why would someone so quiet be interested in someone so loud? Not to mention he was a jock, and Mikey lacked any hand eye coordination. Or coordination period.

Frank seemed to be unperturbed by the lack of his best friend, though. Gerard expected him to be at least a little jealous of Pete, but he wasn't. He wondered why the junior wasn't bothered by one of his only friends, the one he’d known the longest, whom he called his best friend, wanting to talk to sit with someone else, but he guessed Mikey wasn't really that noticeably missed. He didn't talk much, he just listened to his music, so it wasn't like it was that different without him there.

Ray, mother hen that he was, was just worried that Pete might be a bad influence on Mikey. He knew more about him than Gerard did, and he thought he was bad news. That made Gerard worry, but Frank seemed to think it was fine.

He looked at the other people sitting with Pete. There was Patrick, of course, that Andy guy, Joe, and Patrick’s weird goodie-goodie friends. What were their names...the one was Tyler, right? Yeah, Tyler. The talkative one. Then there was the super bouncy one with the bad hair, and Tyler’s best friend that looked like an actual puppy. If Pete was hanging out with those kids, he couldn't be too bad. Hopefully.

Really, if anyone was going to be a bad influence on Mikey, it was Gerard. He was showing him that making people fear you and not wanting to interact with human beings were good things, not to mention his drinking habits, mental health, and gender identity and sexuality crises. He was a mess, and he was the biggest influence in his brother’s life. Yikes. It wasn't like he could help those last two things, but the drinking did nothing good for him. Maybe Mikey spending more time with Pete would keep him away from the real bad influence.

“Earth to Gee,” someone said. There was a hand waving in front of his face. Oh yeah, he was still at school. Now was not the time for an existential crisis. “Anybody home?”

“Shut the fuck up, Frank,” Gerard grumbled. “I just spaced out a little.”

“Are you feeling ok?” Ray asked, concern showing on his face. “If you're sick, I can take you to the nurse. You might need to go home.”

“I'm ok Ray, I promise. I was just thinking too much and I forgot where I was,” Gerard said in a gentler tone. He couldn't bring himself to snap at Ray.

“Oh yeah, I was supposed to ask you if you’re going to go to church on Sunday. We go to the 11:00 service, if you want to sit with us or whatever,” Frank stated awkwardly.

 _‘I was supposed to ask’ doesn't equate to asking, idiot_ , Gerard thought. “My mom said we’re going. I'll tell her I want to go to the later service. Knowing her, she probably does too,” he told his friend.

“Pete goes to second service,” Ray added. Frank laughed as Gerard’s forehead connected with the table, just barely missing the tray of food that he hadn't touched. “I just thought I'd warn you.”

“Pretty much all the guys go to the same service,” Frank elaborated. “Patrick will be there too, and I know you think he’s cool. He seemed to like talking to you, too.”

Gerard was glad Mikey wasn't there to hear that. He'd be teasing his brother about how he only had two friends. “Patrick seems nice, even if he’s Pete’s friend.”

“You can't have Patrick without Pete,” Ray agreed. “Or is it the other way around? Pete’s not exactly the most sane guy out there.”

“I heard a rumor that he doesn't sleep, like, at all. He went a whole week without sleeping one time,” Frank murmured, almost as if he didn't want Pete to somehow hear him from four tables away in a room full of loud teenagers.

“That can't be true,” Ray protested. “That’d make him super sick, probably even kill him. No one would want to do that. Maybe he just doesn't sleep very much.”

“But if he's super messed up, wouldn't he not care? He might even want to die,” Frank argued.

Gerard didn't like where this conversation was going. Not only were they making him feel bad for--sympathize with--Pete Wentz, but they were both treating the subject a bit lighter than he thought they should have. It wasn't really their fault, they didn't understand depression the way he did, and they didn't really know (he hadn't told them) just how depressed he was, but it still wasn't something that you casually discussed over cafeteria lunch.

So it was really lucky for him that the bell happened to ring right then. Gerard had dumped his tray and exited the cafeteria before Frank and Ray could question him storming off. Frank caught up to him eventually, at his locker (fuck the school for making them locker neighbors), but he didn't say anything. He could see he had clearly upset Gerard, even if he didn't know how.

Gerard was perfectly content to ignore Frank, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen. Gabe Saporta just _had_ to walk up and ruin things.

“Hey there Frankie,” Gabe laughed, sadistic smile on his face. “Did you and your boyfriend have a little fight? Aw, poor Frankie.” Ugh. Gabe said that like he didn't make out with Pete every chance he got, or he didn't obviously stare at Bill Beckett’s butt in public.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” was Frank’s knee-jerk reaction. Gerard tried to stay out of it; he didn't want to give Gabe more ammunition to come at Frank with, and coming to Frank’s rescue would do just that.

Gabe scoffed. “Gary,” Gerard knew that meant him, lots of people at school called him Gary. He hated it, but now wasn't the time. “I think you and Frankie need to kiss and make up. He's telling people you're not together anymore.”

That was it. Gerard slammed his locker door shut and looked down at the floor. He could see Gabe take a step back, then he looked up, giving Gabe a particularly hateful glare. This was the fun part: watching Saporta squirm. “Don't you have other people to terrorize?” Gerard asked, as low and monotone as he could manage. He thought he did it pretty well; Mikey’d be proud.

Gabe was stubborn, so he tried to stand his ground. “Oh, but talking to you two is fun,” he said, trying to pass of his nervous grin as confident and failing miserably.

“Why don't you bother Bill Beckett? Or is he not interested in you?” Gerard questioned with feigned innocence. Gabe seemed to contemplate punching him in the face, if the way he clenched his fists said anything, but he untensed and closed his eyes.

“Whatever, freaky dude,” he hissed, before slithering away. Satisfied, Gerard grabbed his book bag off the ground and turned to leave. He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Damn it Frank, didn't he know Gerard was still ignoring him?

“Thanks for saving my ass,” Frank mumbled. “Even if I kind of _am_ an ass. Whatever I did, I'm sorry about it. I'll probably do it again, though.”

Gerard shook his head and faced Frank again. “It wasn't even that big of a deal, I'm sorry for ignoring you,” he apologized. He just couldn't seem to stay mad at Frank. “And of course I saved your ass, it's your best feature.”

“Oh my god,” the short boy cackled. “You're so gay, Gee. No wonder Saporta thinks we’re dating.” Frank went red. “N-not that that’s a bad thing, or anything. Totally ok.”

Frank was so awkward when it came to Gerard’s sexuality. They'd been friends for years before Gerard came out, and, as a matter of fact, Frank was the first person he told. Most of the time, nothing was different, but then Frank would say something that got himself flustered. It usually didn't even bother Gerard as much as it did him.

“Go to class, asshole,” Gerard commanded, but there was no real venom behind it. It was almost said lovingly--actually, not almost. He did have a ‘big gay crush’ on Frank, after all.

Man, did he have it bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Opinions On Touching Dicks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey figures some things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title for this chapter: 'Oh.' Mikey and Pete both say 'oh' a million times (ok so it's closer to four or five but it felt like a lot)

The cafeteria was loud. It wasn't unusual, but it was the first thing Mikey noticed when he got in line. He looked for Frank at the table that was unofficially theirs; he wasn't there yet, and neither were Gerard and Ray. Frank should have gotten there first since he brought his lunch, meaning he wouldn't have to wait in line. He had too many allergies to eat cafeteria food.

Mikey was just a few feet away from the table when something short, fast, and loud grabbed onto his arm. “Mikeyway,” Pete purred, “just who I was looking for. You wanna come sit with me and Patrick? I'm sure Frank and Gerard won't miss you too bad.”

Mikey blinked a few times. Did that just happen? Was it still happening? What was it about him that Pete was drawn to, that he found interesting enough to give Mikey any attention at all? He wasn't used to people wanting to be around him so badly, not even his friends (all two of them--three if you counted Pete too).

He realized he hadn't said anything for several seconds and Pete was staring at him. A simple ‘sure,’ was all it took for Pete to start dragging him in the opposite direction. They reached a table occupied by Patrick and about five other people whose names Mikey couldn't remember. He should have known who they were, they were all at church the night before, but he was drawing a blank.

“Guys, Mikeyway. Mikeyway, guys,” Pete informed the kids that were sitting down. There were only two more seats, right next to each other, with Patrick on the left and the end of the table on the right. Pete took the set next to Patrick, so Mikey sat down next to him.

“Oh, Patrick, before I forget,” the guy on the other side of Patrick (he was more afro than person) said, “my parents are sort of going nuts right now, so you coming over probably isn't a good idea. Can I come to your house instead?”

Pete looked uncomfortable. “Sure, that's fine,” Patrick replied. “What’s wrong, if you don't mind me asking?”

“Hah. So, we’re kind of Jewish,” the human ’fro mumbled.

“ _Kind of?_ ” Patrick questioned. Mikey felt weird about listening to what seemed like a personal conversation, but no one else seemed to care.

“Ok, more than kind of. And they got a little pissed at me over the whole church thing,” he admitted.

“Joe, if coming to church makes your parents mad at you--” Oh, so the afro guy’s name was Joe.

“No, no, I want to go. They'll get over it. I mean, it's the same God and everything, it's not that big a deal.”

Pete turned and looked at Mikey. “Psst, Mikeyway,” he whispered. “Are you doing anything Friday night?”

The other conversation became part of the background noise. “Other than keeping my brother from drinking himself into oblivion, nothing, why?” he asked, leaning closer to Pete so he could hear him better.

“Normally Patrick would be coming over but he's not. You want to spend the night at my house? It'll be fun,” Pete said. Mikey thought about it for a second while Pete waited hopefully.

“Ok, sure. It beats watching Gee be an alcoholic.” Mikey thought Pete was going to hit the ceiling. He'd never seen that much excitement in one entity before, but it was surprisingly more fascinating than it was annoying. And even though everyone else (*cough cough* Gerard *cough*) probably thought they were too different to be friends, something about Pete reminded Mikey of himself, he just couldn't seem to place it.

Something else caught Pete’s attention. “Don't look now Brendon, but Ryan totally just looked at you,” the junior squealed girlishly. Mikey’s face formed a perfect question mark. “George Ryan Ross--the third. The second coolest guy in the junior class. Who’s the coolest? Me, of course. Brendon totally wants to talk to him but he's a big nerd and he's too scared.”

“I am not!” one of the other boys exclaimed. He had an awful bowl cut that Mikey recognized from sitting behind it in history. Apparently, bowl cut’s name was Brendon. “I just don't know what I'd talk to him about. I really want to ask him how he does his makeup like that, but that's not much of a conversation starter.”

“You just have to go for it,” Pete insisted. “Look at Mikeyway, here. I saw him, and I said to myself, ‘Self, that looks like a sweet little dude. You should go talk to him.’ And I did, it's that easy.”

“Ryan’s friends with Gabe though,” one of the other kids said uneasily. Mikey vaguely remembered him being super talkative during group time. “I don't think it'd be a good idea to get involved with Gabe’s friends.”

There was a collective eye-roll from the entire table. “Dude, Ryan doesn't seem that bad. And Pete hangs out with Gabe too,” another guy pointed out. “You just don't want Brendon to stop hanging out with you.”

“Ryan’s got his own friends. He doesn't need to take mine,” the first kid grumbled. He had to be a freshman; he was a huge baby.

Mikey looked around to see if he could figure out who this Ryan guy was. He found Gabe Saporta easily; that purple hoodie really stood out. He was sitting in a fairly large group of people, how was Mikey supposed to pick out one as--oh. He was pretty sure he knew which one they were talking about. He had long brown hair, a bit shorter than Gerard’s, and he was wearing the most eyeliner out of everyone else at the table, even more than the girl sitting next to Gabe. No wonder Brendon liked his makeup. Goals.

Ryan laughed at something one of his friends said before glancing in the direction of the other table, eyes landing on bowl c--Brendon for a moment, then looking away again. The thirst was obvious. “He looked at you again,” Mikey told him. “You really should talk to him.”

Brendon smiled. “Maybe I can get Pete to put in a good word with Gabe for me,” he said hopefully.

Mikey wasn't exactly Gabe Saporta’s number one fan; the jerk had been picking on Mikey’s best friend for his entire high school career. He understood that Pete was super friendly and wanted to hang out with as many people as possible, but the idea of being friends with someone who genuinely liked Gabe seemed strange. And, in Mikey’s opinion, Frank and Pete had a lot in common--from their penchant for underage tattoos, and their apparent attraction to the Way brothers, to their shitty emo hair (Frank’s looked a lot better than Pete’s). So why would Gabe bully Frank but be nice to Pete? What exactly was Mikey missing here?

They weren't... _involved_ , were they? Not that that was a thing that should make Mikey uncomfortable in any way, because it wasn't. At all. He wasn't developing a big gay crush on Pete like Gee had on Frank. Nope. He’d known him for two days, that couldn't happen. Plus Pete seemed really possessive about Patrick, especially when Joe talked about spending the night at his house--if he didn't have a thing for Gabe, did he have a thing for Patrick? Not that it mattered to Mikey.

Except it did.

Ok, no big deal, he liked Pete a little. It was probably because of how much attention Pete was going out of his way to give Mikey. It should pass once he gets used to it. Unless he doesn't. Damn it, why was he even thinking about this, when Pete was right there? Everyone else was still talking and he just completely forgot to be present. He was getting more like Gerard every day.

 _Oh man, Gee’s going to eat this up_ , he thought. When Gerard came out to him as pan, he hadn't been very surprised. He told his brother that he supported him no matter what, but he was straight. And there goes that, right out the window. It was Pete’s fault. Stupid, loud, annoying, attractive-- _god damn it_.

“Mikey, Mikeyway, sweetest little dude, the bell rang, my dude,” Pete said, jabbing Mikey’s arm with a fork. “You have to go to class, Mikeyway. Unless you want to ditch, I'm totally ok with that. I'll ditch with you, if you want. We should ditch this period, Mikeyway.” He grabbed his half empty water bottle off the table and waited for Mikey’s response.

What was it with Pete and Mikey’s name? Mikey did find it sort of endearing, but he wasn't going to tell Pete that. “Ok.”

And then Pete was pulling him by the hand, out of the cafeteria, out of the hallway, out onto the football field and behind the bleachers. If this were a movie, this would be when they started making out like every cliche teenage couple. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Too bad. Instead, they sat down in the grass (Mikey sat down; Pete laid flat on his back with his limbs sprawled out) and just talked.

The Pete that Mikey spent the next fifty minutes with wasn't the Pete he'd seen so far. The Pete that he'd already gotten accustomed to was loud and bouncy and just so _fast_ , but this Pete, _this_ Pete was a completely different person. It was like his batteries had run out and all the babbling stopped, leaving what he was like on the inside to come out. This Pete was small; he was scared. He still talked a lot, but it was less coherent, and it came in mostly metaphors.

After a while, an alarm started going off on his phone. “Oh, meds,” he murmured, digging in his pockets for a pill bottle. He took whatever it was, taking a big gulp of his water and crushing the bottle.

Oh. That was what Mikey saw in Pete that reminded him of himself. Now he understood why Pete was so fast earlier, and so, well, not fast now. “What do you take?” Mikey asked. He thought about the bottle of Zyprexa in his backpack.

Pete hesitated. It didn't seem to register why Mikey was asking him. “Zyprexa and Ativan. But not at the same time, it can mess up my blood pressure so I have to take Zyprexa during the day and I take Ativan before bed,” Pete told him.

“I'm on Zyprexa,” Mikey mumbled. Realization showed across Pete’s face.

“Oh,” Pete said dumbly. He hadn't even considered that Mikey might be like him. “So, this is a thing. Um, if you ever, you know, want to, like, talk about it to someone who understands, I...you can talk to me, if you want. If you don't want to I get it though.”

“Ok,” Mikey agreed. “But not right now. I wanted to ask you about Gabe.”

“Gabe Saporta? What do you need to know? I have a _lot_ of dirt on Gabe,” Pete questioned. “I know how many drinks it takes for him to want to make out with literally anyone, I know who his current crush is, I know who he’s slept with, I know how big his di--”

“I just wanted to know why you’re friends with him,” Mikey explained.

“I'm not really friends with him. We're party friends,” Pete began. “The friends you make while you're drunk aren't usually your friends while you're sober. We hooked up a couple times, and he's not a jerk to me or anything, but I wouldn't hang out with him without a few drinks in me. And I'm not supposed to drink with the meds, so that's not happening.”

That was a bit of a relief. Maybe not the part where Pete admitted to hooking up with Gabe, but he did say he was drunk, so that made it a little less of big deal to Mikey. “So you, um, hooked up with Gabe...are you…?”

“Oh, yeah, I'm bi. I used to say ‘gay above the waist,’ because I thought dicks were gross, but I'm apparently not opposed to touching them. Like, you know, in the heat of the moment it's not as gross,” Pete rambled.

Mikey laughed. “You sound like my brother,” he stated.

“Gerard's not opposed to touching dicks either?” Pete asked.

“No, he's not,” Mikey laughed.

* * *

 

_“Hey Mikes,” Gerard said, sitting on the edge of his brother’s bed. “I want to talk to you about something.”_

_Mikey pulled out an earbud, but didn't say anything. “Ok. You've had the Talk with Mom, right?” He nodded. “Ok. And she said stuff about, uh, how that's you and a girl? Sometimes, that's not the way it goes. Sometimes, it's two guys, or two girls, or more than two, or maybe somebody's not a guy or a girl--”_

_“Is there a point to this?” Mikey sighed._

_“I like touching dicks Mikey!”_

* * *

 

Pete busted out laughing. “That's great. Oh man, that's the best thing I've ever heard,” he panted. “He seems like a pretty cool guy. So what about you? What's your stance on dick-touching?”

Mikey was afraid he'd ask that. “I haven't really told anyone, not even Gee, but I'm...not opposed to it, either,” Mikey mumbled.

“Mikeyway! Your brother told you he likes dick and you didn't tell him you did too?” Pete exclaimed.

“It's a more recent development,” Mikey defended. “I'm going to say something to him soon.”

“My feelings would be hurt if I came out to my little brother and he didn't even mention to me that he was gay too,” Pete warned him. “I mean, Andrew’s not gay, that I know of, but you get what I'm saying.”

“I didn't know you had a brother,” Mikey said, hoping Pete wouldn't notice he was trying to change the subject.

“And a sister. But that's not the point. The point is that you need to talk to Gerard.” Damn, he didn't fall for it.

“Geez, _mom_ , I will,” Mikey huffed.

Pete leaned forward, just a little closer than Mikey was comfortable with. “Oh, Mikeyway. I’d prefer it if you called me daddy instead.”

Great, now Mikey had to kinkshame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it Pete, Mikey's gotta kinkshame


	4. Pete Does A Good Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete's in a really good mood, so he decides to be nice to others. Then he does a lot of thinking about Mikey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slightly shorter than the other chapters, but I was impressed with how much I wrote just about Pete thinking about Mikey. I guess it's because I like thinking about Mikey lol

Where? Where where where? He couldn't seem to--there!

Pete was on the hunt for one George Ryan Ross (the third), and he's spotted said Ross boy, on the opposite end of the hallway. He had to fight through the sea of underclassmen to get to him, but Pete was on a mission, so it was worth it. It's not like anyone would care if a couple freshmen got shoved out of his path, anyway.

“Ryan!” Pete called, ducking under the arm of one kid, then jumping over the backpack of another. “Yo- _ho_ , just the man I wanted to see. Ryan, do you know a dude named Brendon?”

Ryan blinked at Pete in confusion for a few seconds. “I don't. Is he a friend of yours?” he asked, his voice changing to the type of voice you would use with a little kid.

“Suck a dick, Ross. I'm not five. Yes, he's my friend. He the one you keep staring at all the time,” Pete barked. “He wants to be friends with you but he's shy. I figured you could start the conversation and he'd feel better about it.”

“The cu--the sophomore with the bowl cut?” What was that Pete almost heard? Did Ryan Ross almost call Brendon cute? Oh, this was great.

“The very one! So, I thought maybe you could talk to him at church on Sunday. Since, you know, you'll both be there already. All you have to do is go ‘hey man don't we go to the same school?’ and then you can be friends,” Pete suggested.

“Yeah, ok,” Ryan agreed, a small smile showing on his face despite his best efforts to keep it hidden.

Pete was excited.

* * *

After having talked to Mikey Way, Pete was in a good mood, as one his after you find out someone _that_ cute might possibly be an option to date. So, he decided to use his good mood for the benefit of the general public, starting with helping Brendon and Ryan eventually get together. His next step in his mission was to tell Patrick he was sorry for acting so pissy about him hanging out with Joe. Joe was a pretty cool guy, and if he and Patrick wanted to be friends, that shouldn't make Pete mad.

There was no real reason for him to feel threatened; Patrick gaining a new friend didn't mean he was going to forget Pete. Plus, he had befriended Mikey at about the same time, and that didn't upset Patrick. Basically, Pete could see now that he was being a major dick to Patrick with a legitimate right to.

It was the end of the day at that point, so he had to act quickly, before Patrick’s mom picked him up. It wasn't hard to find Patrick--Pete could spit him literally anywhere, it was some sort of sixth sense. The junior had soccer practice in just a few minutes, so his window between then and Patrick leaving was small.

“Trick,” Pete shouted down the hall. Whoa, deja vu. Didn't he just do this like an hour ago with Ryan? The younger boy turned around to face Pete and stood still. Pete rushed forward, grabbing Patrick’s shoulders and pulling him into a tight hug. “Patrick, I’m sorry I was so pissy with you before and I promise to never do it again but that's a lie I'll probably do it again.”

Patrick fought his friend off in order to resume breathing. “It's ok, Pete. But what was bothering you so badly before?” he asked.

“It's dumb. I thought you were replacing me with Joe. You've never missed a Friday sleepover before, and I know you're coming over Saturday, but it doesn't feel the same. Then I realized that you made a new friend at the same time I made a new friend, and it was super hypocritical of me to think I would lose you to Joe. You’re allowed to have more than one friend, too,” Pete admitted.

“And, like, you already have other friends, so I don't really get why you wanting to hang out with Joe bothered me so much. It wouldn't bug me at all for you to hang out with Brendon, or Andy, or Tyler and Josh,” he added.

“You don't need to worry about losing me to Joe. I promise if I ever decide to stop being friends with you, I'll let you know first,” Patrick said, attempting humor to cheer Pete up.

It seemed to work. “Thanks so much for understanding, Pattycakes. You're the best,” Pete proclaimed, hugging Patrick again. His good mood was making him extra clingy. “Ok Trick, I'll see you tomorrow. I've got to get to practice.”

“Bye Pete!”

* * *

Step two of Pete’s mission was complete. His next step would take a little longer: find out if Mikey Way liked him. At the moment, he had no solid plan for this step, but he was working on it. It would take a while, and his first step (he was calling it sub-step A) to that was to open up to Mikey even more. If Mikey actually gave a shit about him, that would go well; if he didn't, then Pete would be able to tell then.

If sub-step A went well, he wasn't sure what he’d do next, since he was making this up on the fly. He'd probably try flirting with Mikey some more--if you could call what he did earlier flirting; “I’d prefer it if you called me daddy”? Who was he? That was so stupid--and start hanging all over him like he did with Patrick. Uh oh. Did that mean that people probably thought he liked Patrick? Did _Mikey_ think he liked Patrick? That might complicate his plans.

If all else failed, he'd just have to be super blunt with Mikey. Pete could have sworn he had read somewhere that quiet people were more perceptive, but he might have made that up. Plus, Mikey didn't seem to be very perceptive. Like, at all. He tuned everything out. Or maybe that's just what he wanted people to think--ugh, Pete was giving himself a headache. He needed something to distract himself.

Thank God for soccer. Practice helped him stop thinking about Mikey, even if it was only for an hour. Then he went home and thought about Mikey some more. But really, who _wouldn't_ want to think about him? He was the absolute sweetest. And small and tall at the same time. And for some reason, he didn't seem to mind how clingy Pete was. Not even Patrick had just gone with it like Mikey did.

Patrick. Oh man. Pete was, like, _super_ in love with Patrick. But in a friend way? He didn't know how to describe it. Platonic soulmates, maybe? Somehow, Pete was pretty sure that wasn't how it came across to everyone else. Patrick may have been his (platonic) soulmate, but he wanted to go out with Mikey. That had to sound confusing to anyone that wasn't Pete. He really hoped people weren't under the impression that he was into Patrick like that. Ew. That'd be like liking his little brother. Ewwww.

There had been a time when, maybe, _maybe_ , he would have dated Patric, but that time wasn't now. Now, Pete was enraptured by Mikey Way.

Mikey Way, and his willingness to open up to Pete after knowing him for literally two days. Mikey Way, and his deadpan expression that changed just slightly--just enough for Pete to see. Mikey Way, and his lanky, awkward limbs that Pete wanted to have wrapped around him. Mikey Way, and his hands. Oh man, his _hands_.

Pete’s face grew hot just thinking about him. This was definitely nothing like what he felt for Patrick, nothing like what he'd felt for anyone. Granted, Pete was still a teenager, and every crush a teenager gets feels like l--no, Pete was _not_ going to use the L word this early on--feels stronger than it really is.

Man, Pete really, really liked Mikey Way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably posting the next chapter within the next week, so, fingers crossed!


	5. For Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe thinks Patrick is very cute, and that they should totally kiss. For science, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much fluff. So. Much.

The bell was just about to ring, but every time Joe looked at the clock, it seemed to be moving backwards. It was Friday, so he was going to Patrick’s house, and school didn't want to end fast enough. He pulled his eyes away from the ticking menace, looking down at his notes. All he had written was ‘the mitochondria is the fucking powerhouse of the cell’ and a poorly drawn dick. Well.

Then, finally, _finally_ , the bell rang. He couldn't get his papers back in his notebook fast enough, especially not when they needed to go in a specific way. He couldn't lose track of any papers, not even if they were pointless notes that he didn't need. Everything needed to be in its designated place.

Once Joe had his things together, he rushed out into the hall, to his locker, and then out to to the front of the school where Patrick would be waiting for his mom. There were several kids standing outside, getting in cars that pulled up, but it didn't take Joe long to find Patrick.

“Hey Patrick,” Joe greeted him. Patrick held up his fist, and Joe bumped his own against it. “So what do you want to do tonight?”

“I was thinking Mario Kart,” Patrick told him. “We could probably watch a movie too, but I can't really think of any good ones.”

“We could always watch something really shitty,” Joe suggested. An SUV pulled up and honked, and Patrick moved toward it.

The smaller boy opened the door to the back seat and slid into the seat in the other side. “Mom, Joe, Joe, Mom,” he introduced as Joe climbed in after him.

“It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Stumph,” Joe said, buckling his seatbelt because if Patrick was a goodie goodie then his mom probably expected his friends to be the same.

“You can call me Pat, sweetie,” Mrs. St--Pat corrected. “Patrick has been telling me all about you. He said you're in his AP Geometry class? You must be a very smart young man.”

He could feel his cheeks redden; hopefully, his hair hid his face enough that Patrick wouldn't see. But holy shit? Patrick talked about him a lot? That was a very very good thing. “I don't know if I'm _that_ smart, but I at least do well in school,” he replied modestly.

“Joe, come on, you're the smartest guy I know,” Patrick insisted. “Joe gets all A’s, Mom. If my Geometry grade drops anymore, I’ll probably need him to tutor me.”

Patrick was so adorable. He was seriously talking Joe up to his mom with Joe right there. “What about Pete? He already took Geometry last year, didn't he? Doesn't he get good grades too?” Patrick's mom asked.

“Pete’s not really a numbers guy, Mom. He's better at lit than math,” Patrick explained. That was Patrick-speak for ‘Pete is absolutely shit at math, and is an emo piece of trash that loves poetry and suffering, and poetry about suffering.’

Patrick was so cute.

* * *

When they got to Patrick’s house, they did in fact play Mario Kart. It was just Patrick and his mom since his siblings had moved out, and Patrick had the whole basement to himself, so they could be as stupid and loud (as teenage boys will) as they wanted--which was a good thing, because as cute as Patrick was, he was _loud_ when he didn't get his way.

“What the fuck,” Patrick hissed. Joe was a bit shocked to hear him swearing for the first time; this sweet, innocent little creature, dropping f bombs like it was nothing. “Stop winning.”

“I'm sorry man, I'm just too good,” Joe gloated. Patrick shoved him, causing him to slip into third place. “Not cool.”

“You winning all the fucking time isn't cool,” Patrick growled. Joe passed him again, and then the pc character, Peach, putting him back in first and Patrick back in third. “Stop doing that!”

“Make me,” Joe taunted. Patrick got hit by a red shell, dropping him all the way to fifth. “Ok, you can't blame me for that.”

“Shut up!

* * *

It was a lot of fun, even if Joe got yelled at a lot, but Patrick got really sleepy at like ten (what an adorable sweet little human being), so they decided to lay in the bed, in case he dozed off. Patrick’s bed was roomy enough that they wouldn't be squished together, but they both laid a littler closer to the middle than was necessary.

“Hey Patrick, do you want to play twenty questions?” Joe asked softly. He thought Patrick might have already fallen asleep, and he didn't want to wake him, but he was bored.

“I guess,” Patrick yawned, “Or you could just ask me a bunch of questions and I can try not to pass out answering them.”

“Or we could do that. Ok, so...do you have your permit yet?” Joe asked.

Patrick chuckled. “You could ask me literally anything and that's all you’ve got? Yeah, I do, but my mom is terrified to actually let me drive. At this rate, I'll have my license by the time I'm thirty. Do you have yours?”

“I'm working my way up to the harder questions. And no, I failed the test. I'm going to take it again soon,” he admitted. “How long have you been friends with Pete?”

Patrick’s sleepy face grew fond. “Middle school. We were both awkward and friendless so we had to be friends, I guess. It's not really that way anymore. I mean, Pete’s not that way anymore.”

“Patrick, you're not awkward and friendless,” Joe said, frowning. “What's your middle name?”

Patrick mumbled under his breath. Joe elbowed him. “Ow! It's Martin,” he groaned.

“Dude, your initials are PMS. Do your parents actually hate you?” Joe laughed. “What’s a better question? Ok, ok. Have you ever kissed a guy?”

“No. I, uh, haven't kissed anybody, actually. Have you? Erm, kissed a guy, that is,” Patrick stuttered.

“No, but I kind of want to try it. It's probably different from kissing a girl, right?”

“I wouldn't know,” Patrick laughed tiredly. “Do you want to kiss me? To see what it's like?”

Joe bolted up from the bed, sitting with his back straight as a board. “Maybe? If you wouldn't mind. Is that ok? From a purely scientific standpoint. I want to know if it's different with a guy. For science.”

Patrick sat up too, but he slouched over a little. “Just stop talking,” he slurred tiredly. Joe suddenly couldn't breathe, at all. Or think. Or just function in general. Patrick Stumph (Patrick _Martin_ Stumph, apparently) was kissing him, which was really good. Oh yeah. He should have been kissing back.

Patrick pulled away first, but he stayed close to Joe. “Holy smokes,” he whispered. Joe still wasn't breathing; he didn't think he could. Eventually, his breath caught up, and his brain started working again. That was when he noticed the pink on Patrick’s cheeks, and Patrick’s hand cupping his face.

“So, that is a thing that happened. I think, personally, that it should probably happen again. For science,” Joe babbled.

“Joe, shut up.”

And Patrick was kissing him again. It was, he didn't know how to describe it...more. It was harder, hotter, more. Patrick's hands knotted up in his hair, and he didn't know when, but his back hit the mattress and Patrick sat on his stomach. Whoa. Hell of a first kiss there, Patrick.

* * *

Had it just been a dream? Joe couldn't tell if it was real or not when he woke up in the morning. Patrick was curled into his side, but that wasn't an indication that that kiss had really happened; Patrick might just be a cuddler.

“Mm, morning, Joe,” Patrick mumbled, inching closer to the body next to him. His head rested on Joe’s chest, and his eyes were still closed (not to mention his morning wood pressing into Joe’s thigh, which he was trying to politely ignore).

“Hi,” Joe said shyly. Patrick opened his eyes and blinked up at Joe with this super dopey look like he hung the moon on the sky. Ok, that definitely meant it was real.

“So was that really all for science?” Patrick teased. “Because I think you _liiiiike_ me.”

“Maybe it was both,” Joe argued weakly. “You kissed me first, so doesn't that mean that you like me?”

Patrick grinned. “I think I like you a lot.”

Holy fucking shit. How was this Joe’s life? “Do you want to maybe be my boyfriend?”

“Sure. For science,” Patrick cackled. Joe groaned, loudly, covering his face.

“I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?” he sighed, looking down at Patrick with faked disdain.

“Never,” Patrick beamed. How could something so cute be so evil? He pushed Joe's hair out of his face and pecked him lightly on the lips. “I'm going to go take care of, uh, you know," he said, gesturing downward before getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom.

Joseph Trohman had a boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sleepy gay boyfrens


	6. Sunday Seating Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon makes a new friend, Mikey sits with Pete, and Gerard and Frank are awkward and uncomfortable (but Frank's not complaining).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These seem to be getting shorter and shorter! This one's a little longer than the last one, but it's still too short for my liking. I want longer chapters!

Brendon and his parents got to church a few minutes early, so the first service hadn't ended yet. They got there early every week; that way, they were never late. Patrick was probably downstairs with the little kids, where he helped during the first service. With no one in the lobby to talk to, Brendon suddenly realized he needed to pee. Like right now immediately. How had he not already noticed?

He rushed to the bathroom, and relieved himself. While he was washing his hands, someone else came in and used the bathroom. He didn't pay attention to who it was until he was standing at the sink next to Brendon; Ryan Ross.

“Oh, hey, we go to the same school, right?” Was he talking to Brendon? They were the only people in the room. Holy shit. He was talking to Brendon. “I'm Ryan.”

“B-brendon,” he stuttered, but smiled widely at Ryan. “And yeah, we do.” Ryan moved toward the door and he followed a little too enthusiastically.

“What grade are you in?” Ryan asked as they ambled back out into the lobby, sitting down in the pair of black leather armchairs in the corner.

“Tenth,” he told the older boy.

“Do you have Mrs. Millar?” Ryan inquired, sympathetic tones showing in his voice.

“I hate her!” Brendon exclaimed. He could feel his parents on the other side of the room glaring at him for being so loud without even looking. “She's awful,” he added, much quieter.

Ryan glanced from Brendon to his parents and back, but didn't say anything about it. “She's the worst,” he agreed. “And she needs to see a doctor about that mole.”

“Oh my goooood. That thing’s got to be malignant. Seriously, that's not healthy,” the sophomore groaned. “And the hairs on it--”

“But it's not just there, she's got--” Ryan interrupted.

“The Millar Beard,” Brendon said, shivering at the thought of the woman’s chin hairs. Ugh, that made him think of the three little pigs. _Mrs. Millar, Mrs. Millar, please let me pass this class!_ Not by the hair of her chinny-chin-chin. He pictured it written down as The Millar BeardTM.

“And she's _ancient_. Shouldn't she have retired by now? Oh, and she wouldn't stop calling me George for all of last year. It's my first name, but like, George is my dad, you know?” Ryan complained.

“At least that's your actual name. She calls me Branden.” He cringed just thinking about it; she also called Patrick Pat which really got on his nerves, but Brendon thought that was kind of funny.

The doors to the sanctuary opened and people started filing out, and others started milling in from the parking lot. “Do you want to sit together? If you have to sit with your family I understand, but it'd be cool if you did.”

Brendon had to be dreaming. He’d worry about pinching himself later; for now, he’d enjoy it while it lasted. “My parents won't mind.” He turned to where they were sitting, close to the doors. “Mom! I'm going to sit with my friend Ryan during service,” he called out. She nodded absently and went back to her own conversation.

The boys stood and wormed their way to the now open sanctuary through a fairly large crowd, and sat near the back. Gabe Saporta was already there on the row directly in front of them, one arm around Bill and the other around Victoria Asher (since Brendon wasn't her friend, he wasn't allowed to call her Vicky T). Bill seemed to be a bit closer to to Gabe than Victoria, but that might just have been his imagination.

Jon Walker was there too, and he turned around and gave Ryan a small wave. He also cocked an eyebrow and glanced from Brendon to Ryan. All the other boy did was grin in response. Brendon had no clue what that was about, but he didn't question it since he was still like eighty percent sure he was dreaming.

* * *

Frank noticed Brendon Urie walking into the sanctuary with Ryan Ross when he first got inside the church. Weird. The next thing he noticed was Gerard, standing awkwardly next to his mom and his equally (if not more) awkward brother. He really didn't look like he belonged there--none of the Ways did, and Frank certainly didn't. There seemed to be a lot of kids like that at their church, actually. Today, Gerard’s eyes were surrounded by pink and red eye shadow, giving a bruised appearance. It was pretty hot, in Frank's opinion.

So Frank had a bit of a thing for Gerard. Ok, so it was more than a bit of a thing. The thing was, he knew Gerard was pan. He knew he stood a chance. But he had absolutely no idea how to go about expressing an interest in him at all, and it was making him turn all weird every time Gerard's lack of heterosexuality was brought up. And he was usually the one that brought it up. Jesus, he was so _stupid_.

“Frankie!” Gerard called out, a bit too loudly, but Frank thought his enthusiasm was cute. It was now that Frank noticed the way the adults in the room looked at Gerard--liked they were scared he was about to pull a gun. Honestly, some people were absolute dicks.

“Mom,” Mikey murmured, “can I sit with--”

“Yes, you can sit with Pete,” she said before Mikey could even finish the question. Then, Pete was there, leading him by the hand into auditorium. That left Frank, Gerard, and their moms.

Their moms stood to the side, talking about mom things (moms have their own language; they talk about all their mom gossip), and Frank and Gerard experienced a few seconds of very awkward silence.

“So Gee, didn't you have some art thing for homework that you were working on?” Frank asked, desperate to find _something_ to talk about.

Gerard nodded. “It's due tomorrow. I have a few more touches to put on it, but it's basically done. The project was supposed to be about monsters, but I maaay have gone a little over board.”

Frank smiled. He could picture the excessive amount of blood that Gerard had probably included in his painting. “What’d you do for it?”

“It's a werewolf,” he said, “but it's a little more on the human side? And it's mauling a guy. It's f--it's pretty sweet.” Gerard almost cussed in church with his mom standing next to him; bad Gerard.

“Sounds awesome, Gee,” Frank replied, ignoring the older boy’s slip up. “Are you ever going to paint me?”

He flushed, but Frank didn't know why. “Uh, I could, I guess. You could, like, pose for it, if you wanted to. Or I could just steal a picture from your Facebook.”

“Posing might be fun. Oh, I think service is about to start,” Frank observed. They hurried in, trailing slightly behind their mothers.

The four of them ended up in the middle of the congregation, with Frank seated between his mom and Gerard. He could see Pete, Patrick, Mikey, that Andy guy, and their two freshmen friends front and center, and Mikey looked surprisingly not uncomfortable.

That was a little unusual for someone who sat strictly on back rows for his entire life. Pete was laughing about something, loudly, and Mikey was smiling at him, kind of like the way Frank found himself smiling at Gee, sometimes--oh. OH. THAT was why Mikey was hanging around Pete. At least Frank wasn't getting replaced.

Mikey had been Frank’s best friend ever since Frank moved in next door to the Way family. He was a quiet, gentle little kid, and Frank was a sickly, lonely child, and when his mom let him play with Mikey, he'd been over the moon. They grew up together, the two of them and Gerard.

It was a wonder that Frank liked Gerard and not Mikey. He didn't know how, but somewhere along the line, the older Way had gone from Mikey’s creepy older brother to the first crush Frank had ever had. Not that Frank was complaining. Gee was creative, and different, and incredibly attractive with his cherubic cheeks and his big doe eyes and his messy hair and--Frank could go on forever. He really could.

But the worship team was on stage, so he probably shouldn't. That was another thing Frank had discovered about Gerard that he liked, the way he got into worship. Wednesday night had brought a side of Gerard out that he’d never seen before, and he was completely awed by the way Gerard moved. Any and all music seemed to take over Gee, in a way that it did to no one else that Frank knew (ok, maybe Patrick). It had taken a little while into the first song for him to get into it, but when he did, Frank couldn't take his eyes off him.

Now, however, it didn't take any time at all. The music started and Gee was swaying, moving his hands, and singing as hard as he could. It wasn't because it was worship, it was because it was music. Frank could barely pay attention to anything but Gerard, but no one else noticed, or if they did, he didn't realize it.

Worship was over far too quickly, and Frank, like usual, didn't pay much attention after that. It was almost like sleeping with his eyes open, since his mom didn't let him use his phone during church.

He was just about to pass out, when someone touching him shocked him back into the land of the living. It took several seconds to figure out it was Gerard, who had snaked his arm around Frank’s shoulders without the younger boy noticing. Why? Why did he do that? What the actual fuck?

Frank looked over at Gerard as subtly as he could, but he was spotted. He felt Gee’s arm withdrawing, which was not what he wanted. In a moment of panic, he grabbed at Gerard’s wrist and pulled his arm back into its place. It was Gerard’s turn to look at Frank, just as questioningly as Frank had looked at him; neither boy said anything about it. If they were sitting a little closer together after that, bodies touching from thigh to shoulder, no one needed to mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it weird that I did more than one POV in one chapter, or is that ok? I didn't think I could do a whole chapter on Brendon's POV without skipping to the next day, and I needed to have Frank's POV on Sunday.


End file.
